We rather not fit…
A hot summer’s night
Just after another habitual killing
Two women, pouring water
Into plastic water gallons
Hand cut for stray dogs to drink
Waiting for a new one
A car screeched the night
A masculine being
Who defines himself by his masculine parts
As well as his vehicle
Peeked, halfly exposed
From the darkened car glass of his
Waiting for a new one
A hot summer’s night
Dull like a desert
Women turned to look for
Who broke the silence
For a brief moment
Breathes poised
And in no time, the man vanished into night
With a fear of losing his reason of existence
Women turned back to their works
Cutting plastic water gallons
For stray dogs to drink
With a hunter’s knife
Waiting for a new one…
Kardelen Fincancı 2020